


Percy Jackson: Gladiator

by runwild14



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 02:03:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5316098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runwild14/pseuds/runwild14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Perseus Jackson is a powerful Roman general, loved by both the people and the Emperor. Before his death, the Emperor decides to leave the empire to Perseus instead of his son, Lucas. When Lucas hears of this, he punishes Perseus severely. He is thrust into the Gladiator games, forced to fight until he dies. Just how far will Perseus go to get his revenge? Based off Gladiator movie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hell Unleashed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer - I don't own PJO or The Gladiator (2000)  
> *THIS HAS BEEN EDITED*

**THIRD PERSON POV**

_Germania_

A lone figure stood in the middle of a blackened landscape, scanning his eyes over the barren plain. He was around 6'2" and looked to be very well built. He had raven-black hair and a strong yet handsome face. But what stood out most were his eyes. They were a piercing sea-green, and seemed to be looking into your very soul, picking you apart bit by bit. Just by looking at this person, one could tell he was not a man to be crossed. He radiated an air of confidence and power, and he looked as if he knew what he was doing with it. Behind him on a hill were thousands of soldiers, resting after a long battle. The figure looked around the battlefield and sighed. He knew it would come to this, a hard-fought final battle to end this great campaign. A part of him wished the barbarians would simply give in, but he knew that was impossible, for this was their homeland and they would fight for it to their last breath. He respected them for that, but he was hoping to be home sooner.

In the distance, the thundering of hooves could be heard. The figure glanced up and surveyed the group nearing the hill. His scouts had returned. He started to walk up the paths cut into the hill to hear the report that was to be given by the scouts. As he passed by the soldiers they planted their shields in the ground and kneeled, most with smiles on their faces, and spoke one word. "General." It was obvious that this was a respected figure, although it didn't look as though he simply commanded respect. It appeared that he had earned it and was well-liked for what he had done.

When he reached the command post, marked by the purple SPQR flag, he noticed that one of his scouts had yet to return. He shook it off as he heard his second-in-command give a soldier an order. "You-soldier. I ordered those catapults to be moved further backwards." The figure quickly dismissed that order, saying, "The range is good." His second-in-command looked at him with wide eyes. "But sir, the potential damage to our cavalry—" The general cut him off. "Is acceptable." "Where is the last scout?" he asked.

Suddenly, a horse broke out of the tree-line on the opposite side of the field and galloped towards the army. Once it got closer, it was easily recognized as the scout's horse. It was also easy to see the headless body of the scout atop the horse. Then from the trees a shout of defiance was heard. The leader of the barbarians was standing there, holding the head of the scout in his hands. From the forest around him came more war cries as the remainder of the barbarian army gathered on the opposite side of the plains.

The second-in-command spoke with annoyance laced through his voice, "Why can't they understand they've been conquered?" The general answered, "Would you, Quintus? Would I?" With that said, the general bent down, scooped up some of the soil, and rubbed it between his hands. He then turned to Quintus. "Strength and Honor," he said before mounting his horse. It was answered by an identical "Strength and Honor" from Quintus. Just before he rode off, he looked down at Quintus and said, "On my command, unleash hell."

As he galloped by the soldiers, they stood and began preparing to attack. "Load the catapults," Quintus ordered. "Infantry form up for advance! Archers ready!" The archers nocked their arrows and lit the tips on fire. The catapults were locked in place and the ball was lit on fire as well. As this was happening, the general rode off into the woods in search of his cavalry. Unknown to the barbarians, he had set them up behind enemy lines. When the battle started, the barbarians would be caught between the archers and the infantry. When he reached them he slowed his horse to a walk and began to speak. "Three weeks from now, I will be back with my family. Imagine where you will be, and it will be so."

"Hold the line and stay with me. If you find yourself alone, riding across green fields with the sun on your face, do not be troubled, for you are in Elysium, so you are already dead!" This was greeted with rounds of laughter from the men. After they had quieted down he said, "Brothers! What we do in life, echoes in eternity!" With that said, he gave his archer the signal to fire the flare and start the battle.

When the signal was seen by Quintus, he immediately shouted, "Archers! Draw!" He then swept his flag in a downward motion, and the archers released their arrows, while the catapults released their own flaming projectiles. Almost immediately afterward, cries of pain could be heard from across the battlefield. The survivors of the first wave of air strikes grouped together and charged. The Roman infantry ran to meet them.

As this was happening, the cavalry was beginning their march towards the enemy from behind. While the barbarians were distracted by the infantry, the cavalry struck. The barbarians turned to face them as they emerged from the trees, but they were caught in the middle of the two groups and it quickly turned into a massacre. The barbarians were taken out one by one, but they took a few Roman soldiers with them as well. For the next several hours all that was seen were weapons sinking into flesh and blood everywhere. The general was right in the middle of the fighting, his sword an arc of pure destruction. He had dismounted his horse in favor of fighting on his feet, and all those who dared to face him were disposed of almost effortlessly by the general. As the battle wore on, the Romans decimated the barbarian army, until at last there was no one left, and the 20-year long campaign was finally over. A large cry of victory went up from the Roman side, and they began to chant their general's name. "Perseus, Perseus, Perseus…" could be heard well into the night, and it was a name the Romans would not soon forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - Let me know what you guys thought about this by leaving a review. They really help motivate me to continue writing. Thanks!
> 
> -runwild14


	2. Missed The War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer - I don't own PJO or The Gladiator (2000)  
> *THIS HAS BEEN EDITED*

**THIRD PERSON POV**

Deep within the woods of Germania, the Roman Emperor watched as his troops were victorious once again. He let out a deep sigh as he thought back on the last 20 years. What started out as small attacks for resources turned into a full-blown war within a couple of months. The war had quickly gotten out of hand as Rome's thirst for new territory had taken over. It was all politics. Those in power simply couldn’t resist the temptation of more land. It was never meant to be this way. Some of his soldiers had been separated from their families for years and that is not something the Emperor liked seeing. His gaze settled on his most trusted general, Perseus, and the smile appeared on his face once more. The man was like a son to him, and he would place his life in Perseus' hands on any given day.

As his mind started to wander, the Emperor was reminded of his actual son. If he was completely honest with himself, the boy was an absolute disgrace. He was a power-hungry, arrogant jerk. He had tried, for many years, to shape his son into the man he wanted him to be, but perhaps that is where he went wrong. His son rebelled against all of these attempts, and finally the Emperor had given up. The Emperor was greatly saddened, but he realized that he would never be able to give his son the title of Emperor. If he did, Rome would be ruined within days. He would not let that happen to his people. He needed somebody who wouldn't waste words, someone that he could depend on and trust. Someone like Perseus.

As the Emperor was watching the battle, an armored carriage was on its way over from Rome, carrying the Emperor's son and daughter, Lucas and Zoë. Zoë would make a great leader one day. She was tall and beautiful, but it wasn't her looks that would gain Rome's support. It was her strength, something that her brother was sadly lacking.

Lucas on the other hand, had a mischievous smile and an expression on his face that made a person wary of him immediately. He did not have a very large body, but this was a man of great influence, and you would have to be a fool to cross him.

**-Time Skip 19 Days-**

An armored horse-drawn carriage pulled to a stop about a half-mile from the battlefield in Germania. As the doors opened, a young man stepped out of the back. He was of a normal height, with sandy-blond hair and light blue eyes. In the back of the carriage was his older sister. She was tall, with long black hair and eyes the color of obsidian. These were the next in line to the throne, Lucas and Zoë, son and daughter of the Emperor.

When Lucas stepped out of the carriage, a soldier moved forward. He bowed before saying, "Sire." "Where is the Emperor?" Lucas questioned without acknowledging the sign of respect. The soldier rose from his bow and said, "He's at the front, Sire. They've been gone for nineteen days. The wounded are still coming in." Lucas didn't comment, instead simply signaling for his horse. The soldiers helped him up on to his horse, mounted their own horses and were off down the path towards the battlefield once more.

Zoë scoffed in disgust as she watched her brother ride away. She knew he had no respect for his people, but the least he could’ve done is fake it. She turned to the one soldier who had remained with the carriage and said, “Take me to the wounded.” “My lady, I can’t allow you to do that” he replied, head bent to show respect. She reached out and gently lifted his head. “You can, and you will” she said simply. “I can help your wounded comrades.” The soldier’s eyes widened in realization, as he quickly nodded and mounted his horse. Zoë, not needing help like her brother, mounted hers as well and followed the soldier towards the battlefield.

The wind was howling through the trees of the forest, rustling the leaves around bodies, turning what used to be a peaceful place into a somber graveyard. A sword was sticking half into a tree, blood still dripping from the blade. Suddenly, a hand latched onto the sword and pulled it free. The weapon was deemed useless, and tossed among the bodies of once-living men.

A voice was heard, coming from behind the man that the hand belonged to. "You have proved your valor yet again Perseus." The general, for it was he, turned around and bowed. The emperor acknowledged him with a nod before continuing, saying, "Let us hope it is for the last time." Perseus shook his head, a confused look settling upon his face. "There is nobody left to fight Sire," he replied. The Emperor smiled sadly, looking off across the battlefield, and said, "Ah, there is always somebody left to fight."

He looked back to Perseus and spoke. "How can I reward Rome's greatest general," he said with a kind smile. Perseus thought for a moment before speaking. "Let me go home?" he finally asked. The Emperor's smile grew. "Ah," he said, "home."

_Above the Battlefield_

Lucas was angered. No, that was an understatement. He was furious. He stood atop a hill looking over the battlefield watching his father and Perseus have their little bonding moment. He never got to have moments like these with his father because they were all reserved for Perseus. The final straw was when Perseus and his father were walking along the path towards him and the soldiers started cheering. He was just close enough to hear their conversation.

Looking around at his troops, Perseus said, "They honor you, Caesar." The Emperor looked at him and smiled. "It is for you, Perseus," he said," they honor you." Perseus glanced at his brothers in arms before raising his sword high into the air. His soldiers mirrored his actions and sounded a loud war cry.

Furious at the attention Perseus was getting, Lucas spurred his horse onwards down the hill. As he rode, the cheers from the soldiers died down. They held little respect for a man who shows up at the end of a battle to claim the rewards. When Lucas reached his father, he jumped off of his horse and ran to the Emperor. "Did I miss it?" he questioned. "Did I miss the battle?" The Emperor looked at him with an expression bordering on disgust before saying, "You have missed the war." His son stepped back saying, "Congratulations Father. I shall sacrifice 100 wolves to honor your triumph." "Save the wolves," the Emperor said. "Honor Perseus. He won the battle." Lucas glanced over at Perseus and sneered, "Congratulations  _Perseus._ It has been far too long." Perseus simply nodded and kept his head down. With that, Lucas jumped back onto his horse and rode off. The Emperor slowly followed, but not before glancing at Perseus and saying, "So much, for the glory of Rome." He smiled at Perseus and spurred his horse to catch up to his son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - Let me know what you guys thought about this by leaving a review. They really help motivate me to continue writing. Thanks!
> 
> -runwild14


	3. Heart to Heart Talks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer - I don't own PJO or The Gladiator (2000)  
> *THIS HAS BEEN EDITED*

**THIRD PERSON POV**

_Later that night_

In celebration of their victory, the soldiers were having their biggest party since the war began. There was laughter all around, and the bonfires across camp seemed to be burning brighter than they had in the past 20 years. The only one not participating in the celebrations was Zoë. She stood in her tent, looking through the tent flaps at the partygoers. A small smile came across her face as she saw Perseus walking through the party, people slapping him on the back and offering their congratulations wherever he went. Suddenly, the tent flaps on the other side were pushed open, and in walked the Emperor. He observed Zoë for a moment before saying, "Ah, if only you had been born a man. What a Caesar you would have made."

At this Zoë looked up and walked over to where the Emperor stood. "Father," she greeted, lightly placing a kiss on either cheek. Her father smiled, then continued. "You would have been strong. I wonder, would you have been just?" She looked at him quizzically, wondering where this conversation was going, before replying. "I would have been what you have taught me to be," she said with the smile reappearing on her face. Her father also smiled at this and said, "Ah, I see. Tell me, how was your journey?" They started to walk further into the tent as Zoë gave her response. "Tiring," she said. "Uncomfortable." She then turned to face her father and asked, "Why have I come?" "I need your help," her father said simply. At her questioning glance he sighed, before continuing. "With your brother," he elaborated. Zoë laughed before saying, "Of course." Her father faked a glare at her before he proceeded with his explanation. "He will need you now, more than ever." As the true meaning behind his words sunk in, an uneasy silence settled over the two. Noticing this, the Emperor quickly changed the subject.

"Enough of politics," he said. "Let us pretend that you are a loving daughter, and I am a good father." He held out his arm for her, and after she had looped her arm through his, they continued on their walk throughout the tent. After a moments silence, Zoë glanced back up at her father before saying, "This is a pleasant fiction, isn't it?" Her father looked over at her and smiled, and they walked together for the rest of the night, washing their worries away in the mundane topics of daily life.

Early the next morning, Perseus was summoned to the Emperor's tent. When he entered, the Caesar was sitting at his desk, scribbling away on a piece of paper. "You sent for me, Caesar?" Perseus asked. After a moment passed with no response, Perseus tried again. "Caesar?" he questioned. This time, the Emperor answered, but he still did not look up from his writing. "Tell me again Perseus, why are we here?" he asked his most trusted general. Perseus sent his Caesar a quizzical look, but replied all the same. "For the glory of Rome, Sire," he said with the utmost confidence. The Caesar stopped writing. "Ah yes," he sighed. He then leaned back in his chair before saying again, "Ah yes. Now I remember." He looked across the room before saying, "Do you see that map Perseus?"-at this he pointed to a map of Europe across the room-"That is a map of the world which I created." "For twenty years I have conquered, spilt blood, expanded the Empire. Since I became Caesar, I have known four years without war. Four years of peace in twenty. And for what?" He stood from his chair and approached Perseus. Stopping a couple feet short of him he continued. "I have brought the sword, Perseus. Nothing more." At this Perseus tried to protest. "Caesar—" he began, but was cut short. "Please," the Emperor said, "Please don't call me that." He then turned around and walked to the living space of his tent. He stopped at the entrance and motioned for Perseus to follow. "Come sit," he invited. "Let us talk." He sat down across from Perseus and after a few seconds in silence he grew impatient. "Well?" he prompted. "Talk."

"5000 of my men are out there in the freezing mud, 3000 of them are bloodied and cleaved, 2000 will never see their homes again. I will not believe that they fought and died for nothing." "What would you believe?" the Caesar asked, sounding slightly exhausted. "They fought for you!" Perseus shouted. "And for Rome." "And what is Rome, Perseus?" the Caesar questioned. Perseus thought for a time before speaking and when he did, his words were filled with meaning. "I have seen much of the rest of the world," he began. "It is brutal and cruel and dark. Rome is the light." "Yet you have never been to Rome!" the Caesar stated. "You have not seen what it has become!" After a slight pause the Caesar continued, this time in a more tired tone. "I am  _dying_ , Perseus. When a man sees his end he wants to know there was some purpose to his life. How will the world speak my name in years to come? Will I be known as the philosopher? The warrior? The tyrant? Or will I be remembered as the Emperor who gave Rome back her true self?"

At this point he looked back up at his general. "There once was a dream that was Rome, Perseus," he said. "You could only whisper it. Anything more than a whisper and it would vanish, it was so fragile. And I fear, that it will not survive the winter." At this point he got up and repositioned himself so that he sat next to Perseus. "Let us whisper now, together, you and I. You have a son?" the Caesar asked. At this Perseus nodded. A smile broke out on the Emperor's face and he said, "Tell me about your home." And so Perseus did. And as he spoke, 20 years of worry vanished from his face. He was relaxing in a way he had not been able to for quite some time. When he had finished his tale, the Caesar asked, "Do you remember the last time you were home?" Perseus didn't even hesitate before replying, "Two years 264 days, and this morning." The Emperor looked at his general and smiled. "I envy you Perseus. It is a good home. A home worth fighting for. There is only one last duty that I ask of you before you return home."

Perseus stood tall and faced him. "What would you have me do, Caesar?" he asked. The Emperor replied, "I want you to become protector of Rome when I die. I will empower you to one end alone. To give power back to the people of Rome, and end the corruption that has crippled it." He paused for a moment, judging Perseus' reaction, before saying, "Will you accept this great honor that I have offered you?" "With all my heart, no," answered his general sadly. At this, the Caesar smiled and said, "And that is why it must be you, Perseus." Perseus looked down and protested, "But surely a senator or somebody who understands the politics—" "But you have not been corrupted by the politics," the Caesar interrupted. He patted Perseus on the shoulder and started to walk away, but was stopped by his general saying, "And Lucas?" "Lucas is not a just man," the Emperor explained. "You have known that since you were young. Lucas cannot rule. He  _must_  not rule. You, Perseus, are the son I should have had." Perseus smiled and went to speak, but the Caesar was already continuing in his rant. "Lucas will accept my decision. He knows that you command the loyalty of the army." Perseus looked around nervously before speaking. "I need some time, Sire." "Yes," the Caesar agreed, "By sunset, I hope you will have agreed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - Let me know what you guys thought about this by leaving a review. They really help motivate me to continue writing. Thanks!
> 
> -runwild14


	4. Death of a Caesar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer - I don't own PJO or The Gladiator (2000)  
> *THIS HAS BEEN EDITED*

**THIRD PERSON POV**

Shortly after Perseus left the Emperor's tent, Lucas entered it. He wandered around the tent, taking in his surroundings. At the end of his investigation of sorts, he stopped in front of a marble bust of the Caesar. Engraved at the bottom was his name, Hermes Diaktoros. As he was admiring the statue, he failed to notice the very person it depicted was standing right behind him, until he spoke.

"Are you ready to do your duty for Rome?" Hermes asked. At this, Lucas whipped around to face him, removing his gaze from the statue. Lucas looked him in the eyes before saying simply, "Yes father." Hermes took a deep breath before saying, "You will not be Emperor." Lucas looked like he had been physically struck, and for good reason too. The one thing he wanted above all others was taken away from him in the blink of an eye, and by the one person he loved the most. But he held his emotions in check and asked, "What wiser older man is to take my place." "My powers will be passed to Perseus, to hold and trust, until the Senate is ready to rule once more," Hermes stated. "Rome is to be a republic again."

At this point, Lucas was struggling to reign in his tears. Through his chocked sobs he managed to get out, " _Perseus?_ " The way he said it, one would think that the name itself was a curse. "Yes," his father said. "My decision disappoints you?" Ignoring the question, Lucas said, "You wrote to me once, listing the four key virtues. Wisdom. Justice. Fortitude. And Temperance. As I read the list I knew I had none of them. But I have other virtues father. Ambition. That can be a virtue when it drives us to excel. Resourcefulness. Courage. Perhaps not on the battlefield, but there are many types of courage."–at this point his voice was rising with every word, and he was almost shouting now-"Devotion. To my family. To you. But none of my virtues were on your list. Even then it was as if you didn't want me for your son." He was chocking back sobs again now and his father tried to interrupt. "Lucas…you go too far," he said, but he was cut off by his son. "I searched the faces of the gods for ways to please you," Lucas said. "To make you proud. To hear one kind word. What is it in me you hate so much?" At this, Hermes knelt in front of his son and pleaded, "Shhh Lucas please." His son continued paying no attention to his father. "All I've ever wanted was to live up to you, Caesar, father."

At this point, his father had heard enough. "Lucas," he said in a stronger tone, "Your faults as a son are my failings as a father." He opened his arms for a hug and his son slowly accepted. They embraced one another as the tears fell. Lucas tightened his grip as if he was holding on for dear life and his father responded with as much strength as he could muster in his old age. Pretty soon, the sadness turned to anger, and in a blind rage, Lucas tightened his grip on his father. Because of his age, Hermes could not fight back, but one could hear his muffled yells. After a few moments of struggle, the yells died out and Lucas stepped back. Just like that, the Caesar Hermes Diaktoros was no more.

Perseus lay on his bed trying to make his decision. As he thought, the door opened and Quintus walked in. "Perseus, the Emperor needs you," he said. Perseus walked through the rows of tents until he came upon the one he was looking for. When he walked in, Lucas approached him and said, "Mourn with me, brother. Our great father is dead." Perseus just stared at Lucas in shock, before moving past him and approaching the bed where the Caesar lay. When he reached him, he slowly reached out a hand and rested it upon the great Caesar's forehead. "How did he die?" he asked. "The surgeons say there was no pain," Lucas answered. "His breath gave out as he slept." Perseus absorbed the news before gently leaning over and kissing the spot where his hand was moments ago. It was a farewell to the great man whom he looked up to and cherished. "Father," he whispered, as the Caesar was a great father figure to him. Unable to bear the sight of the Caesar’s unmoving body, he then swiftly got up and let the tent, just as Zoë entered.

As soon as he saw his sister, without giving her any time to grieve, Lucas asked, "Will you support me as Caesar?" She stared at him for a moment, disgust the only emotion visible on her face, and then walked up to him and slapped him across the face with tears in her eyes. Absolute fury washed over her, for she knew without a doubt how her father had died. And she vowed to the gods that she would make him pay for it in every way. Still, remembering some of her father's last words to her, she took his hand, raised it up to her lips, and pressed a gentle kiss to it. "Hail Caesar," she said in a monotone voice, before quickly leaving the tent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - Let me know what you guys thought about this by leaving a review. They really help motivate me to continue writing. Thanks!
> 
> -runwild14


	5. Escaping Execution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer - I don't own PJO or The Gladiator (2000)  
> *THIS HAS BEEN EDITED*

**THIRD PERSON POV**

As soon as he returned to his tent, Perseus began packing. He knew that with Lucas as the new Caesar, he could be dead in minutes. He was throwing belongings into his bag with only one thought in mind.  _I have to get out_. Sadly, that was not to be. Just as he finished packing, Imperial guards broke into Perseus' tent. Forcing him down onto his knees before them, they took his belongings and weapons by force. As they dragged him outside, one soldier threw a last dig at Perseus over his shoulder. "Where you're going, these will be of little use to you."

They tied his hands together and threw him on top of a horse. Then without waiting for him to get settled, they hopped up onto their own mounts and rode off into the dark woods. Perseus thought about escaping, that is until he noticed that the same ropes that were attached to his hands were also attached to his horse and the horses alongside him. If he tried to escape, he would just be dragged along behind the other horses. He would die before they even had a chance to execute him. _Although_ , he though bitterly, _maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing_.

They led Perseus deep into the forest, the falling snow muffling their horse's footsteps as they went, and covering up all signs of their passing. After a couple of minutes of travel, they came across a clearing filled with decaying bones-an ancient battlefield maybe. Or perhaps a slaughterhouse. The guards dismounted and dragged Perseus off of his horse, before roughly shoving him into the center of the clearing. After forcing him to kneel, the guards took up their positions around him-one stood to his immediate left, sword in hand, and the other stood about five meters in front of him.

As he was about to die, his thoughts drifted to his wife and son, and he began to worry for their lives. Without him there to protect them, Lucas' army would surely come for them. They would be dead within days. He needed to save them – and he couldn’t do that after death. Knowing this, Perseus started to formulate a plan in his head. In order for it to work, everything would have to be timed to perfection.

As the first guard prepared to bring down his sword on Perseus' neck, he spoke. "At least give me a clean death. A soldier's death." The first guard looked to his companion for permission, and after a short nod, he walked behind Perseus, sword angled downwards with the tip of the sword over his neck, ready to strike a blow that would sever the spinal cord and lead to a quick, painless death.

As the first guard brought his sword up for the second time, preparing to strike the killing blow, Perseus threw his head back, catching the guard in the stomach and forcing him to drop the sword. Perseus caught the sword before it hit the ground and smashed the hilt of the sword into the second guard's helmet, throwing him backwards onto the ground. Spinning to face the first guard, who was still frozen in shock, he slammed the sword into his chest, piercing the breastplate and puncturing the guard's lungs. As the first guard dropped to the ground Perseus spun around once more to face the second guard. He had picked himself up off the ground but was having trouble un-sheathing his sword. The hilt had frozen to the sheath. Perseus, observing his struggle, gave him a cruel smile before commenting easily, "It’s the frost. You'll find it sometimes makes the blade stick." With that said, he swung the blade at the second guard, severing his head from his body.

As he was surveying the ancient battlefield once more, his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of horses neighing. He looked off to his left where the sound had originated from and saw that the two guards that were left behind to secure the perimeter had taken notice of the happenings in the clearing and were headed towards him. Quickly gathering his thoughts once more, Perseus ran for cover, hiding himself behind a group of trees. The first rider took the reckless approach, urging his horse to top speed, unaware that he was headed straight for a trap. He didn't see the sword spinning end over end coming towards him until it was too late. The throw was near perfect, as the sword impaled itself just below his heart and cut all the way through his body. As he fell from his horse, his steed kept running, eager to escape the danger that it's rider had ridden into.

As the sword met its mark, Perseus stepped out of the cover of the trees and observed the results of his throw. While walking over to retrieve his blade, he noticed that the second rider had stayed atop a hill near the clearing. After he picked up his sword, Perseus readied himself before making his presence known. "Centurion!" he called out. The rider spun around in his saddle, and upon seeing Perseus, urged his horse into a gallop towards the general. Perseus stayed on the rider’s sword arm side, waiting for the right moment. When the rider was nearly on top of him, Perseus jumped to the opposite side of the horse and struck a deadly blow to the rider. Unfortunately for him, Perseus also received a cut, although not fatal. The horse came to a stop, before turning to run at Perseus again, not realizing the state that it's rider was in. The steed had covered no more than two meters when it's rider slumped in the saddle and crumpled to the ground. The horse started in surprise, before stopping to graze on the grass that was uncovered during the scuffle, no longer paying attention to Perseus.

The man himself stabbed his sword into the ground so that he could check his wound. He put his hand to his left shoulder to discover the severity of the wound. When he removed his hand it was drenched in blood. Wiping his hand off on his already blood-soaked shirt, he retrieved his sword and approached the lone remaining horse. Sheathing his sword, he swung himself into the saddle and spun the horse around before ridding off towards his family, his home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - Let me know what you guys thought about this by leaving a review. They really help motivate me to continue writing. Thanks!
> 
> -runwild14


End file.
